This really happened. Very early last Saturday morning, I failed to secure my favorite seat on the MAX train: far right front, right behind the operator's cockpit, the only single seat on the train. I was already cantankerous & crusty. I deduced a deepening dread that the day would be demanding of my restraint. Yet, I was just 7 hours away from my weekend. If the world would play by the rules, I might make it to 66 hours of time spent just on me, not solving problems for people, not answering questions & not attempting to appease bosses, customers, staff, or spouse.
A commotion was afoot at the train stop- Old Town, a stirring in our section with a stinging utterance: "Fucking gays... die of AIDS. Fuck!"
Something has happened to me in my old age. I am unbothered with my own security, adding aggrieved ache from the hateful spewing of the Christian Right Wing, gently reminding me that I am less than fully human, I am willing to take on a detractor. I swung around to get a look at the somebody who dared to rant. Lucky for me, the individual was disembarking. I sighed, a battle that would be fought another day.
I shut my book & turned to glance out the window. There, 3 inches on the other side of glass was the most chilling face I have ever confronted, skin tight over bone, & the red eyes of an animal. He froze into my gaze, opened his slit of a mouth & a full load of brown bile & food matter flooded out. Still staring at me, he licked the corners of his cavity & flicked his dreadful tongue, just as the train lurched forward.
I was aware in that moment that his presence would penetrate my subconscious & dwell in my dream life. I considered the encounter during my work day, but figured I would file it under delete from my hard drive.
When I arrived back at my neighborhood MAX station, I began my end of the work week routine: a haircut from Darlene at 7 Bucks A Whack & a beer at the corner straight bar. I didn't need to wait at 7 Bucks A Whack, maybe everything's going my way after all. In Darlene's chair I am listening to a geezer in the next chair conversing with a geezer who was waiting.
Geezer #1 (chuckles): "I grew up in SW Washington on a dairy farm. My first job when I was a kid was placing the caps on the gallon bottles. The caps were red plastic with a wooden dot in the center that said- Homo Milk. Homo Milk! Where the hell do ya get Homo Milk. Not from a teat, that's for sure! Homo Milk. Huh!"
Geezer #2 (slap his sides): "Homo Milk is bad for ya. You will get that AIDS"
Stephen: "I guess you gentleman have not heard... It is the 21st century & homos are not fair game anymore. That is right. I am a homo & I don't appreciate the joke. So, shut the fuck up... you are bringing me down."
Geezers (in harmony): "Yeah?"
Stephen: "Yeah."
It could be The Eagle in any big city, with a motorcycle theme & no sense of design, but it is a decidedly straight spot. But it is in a direct line from the haircut to home & am intrigued with heterosexual behavior, from a purely empirical point of view.
I always make friends with the help & was already on a first name association with an old broad of a bartender. Mimi poured me a PBR without my asking & she complained about the Mexicans for a moment before checking in with her regulars. Mimi stopped by & inquired about my reading material. "The Mercury", I answered.
Mimi: "Do you like that rag?"
Stephen: "Not really, it is a smidgen snarky, but I like to read & I will peruse most anything (I had been reading Maxim at 7 Bucks a Whack). I like the music reviews & I need to know what the kids are into these days."
Mimi: "Yeah, well the one that really chafes us here is that Just Out. We let 'em deliver it & then we take 'em out back & toss em'. For Jimmy that is not enough... he likes to burn 'em. After all, we are a family business! We sure don't need a newspaper about them queers."
Stephen: "Oh Mimi, The Mercury is far worse than Just Out. The page I was reading, before your ignorant & ungracious little prattle, contained the words: shit, fuck & cunt, plus a photo of a professional "titty girl", & I have not even made it to Dan Savage's column yet. Just Out is about families. All kinds of families. I am a gay man, one of many in this neighborhood. You need to embrace the new age we live in. It is now a different world & there is no stopping that gay agenda you hear about. Gay people don't appreciate being disparaged anymore. I am going to let the publisher of Just Out know about delivering the papers to this place. I am not going to return, which makes me sad... I sort of enjoyed your company. I would have appreciated having my beer, reading a Just Out & leaving you my typical 25% tip. & if 2 geezers come in here complaining about some queer, ask them how they take their Homo Milk."
